Page 84 of The One Night Dash
“Have I been gone that long?” I chuckle.
“He is here until we find out if he’s lost and has a home where his people are missing him. If he does, he will go back; if not, he’s a new member of the Pembrooke Books fam.” She smiles as she unlocks the door. “And so are Hildy, Danny, Priya, and Andi. They work here now.”
“Four employees?” I ask as I follow her up, trying not to focus too hard on her ass.
“Five, Angie has always been here.”
“Sweet, my girl’s a boss.”
“Apparently, I am.” She opens the door to her place and squeals, “Hello, my loves. Mommy’s home!”
I’m sittingon her couch, which is extremely comfortable—the complete opposite of what I am right now—as she feeds the two—yes, two—black cats.
She looks back at me. “Are you okay?”
“I am.” I swallow hard. “But I have a … complicated topic to discuss with you, and it …” I shake my head and whisper a reminder, “It’s not about me.”
Her face drops, and she goes pale. She just stands there. She fucking knows, and it’s fucking her up this bad before she even knows the whole scope of it. This isn’t just going to hurt; it’s going to fucking kill me.
“Talk to me, Noelle,” I say, standing and walking over to her. When I take her hands, her body goes stiff, and her shoulders raise just enough to notice.
Her eyes fill with tears, and she looks down at our hands. “Him telling you …” She swallows hard. “Him telling you means he knew. He knows,” she scowls. “I was ready to forgive him for … you know, being so cold because they thought maybe I was to blame. Maybe he really believed he died because I was a bitch. After all, boys cheat, right? It’s okay, forgivable. We’re supposed to accept it’s just boys being boys.”
“No, you should never accept that.”
She nods, staring down at her hands. “Today, I thought I could move forward finally, and …” She stops. “But him knowing that when I tried to break up with him, he … did that to me? Did that to me and wouldn’t let me leave, and …” She pulls her hands back and hugs herself. She looks up at me. “I walked three miles in the middle of the night after they all passed out and … he knows … which means they know, and?—”
I feel sick to my stomach. This isn’t what we discussed. This is so much fucking worse.
I want to hug her, hold her, but based on her body language right now, I don’t know if it would harm or help.
“Noelle.”
She looks up at me, blinking away tears.
“This isn’t about us right now. It’s about you. I need to fucking hug you, wipe away your tears. But if you don’t want me to, then you gotta tell me.”
Her nose flares. “James Florence hurt me, forced himself on me, wouldn’t let me leave, hit me, pinned me down, held me against my will for hours… hurting me! And he knew!” She’s crying, but in a way I have never witnessed—tears falling, nose running, angry, so angry.
I take her face in my hands. “No, Noelle, that’s not what he and I talked about. That’s not what I wanted to tell you, but I promise you that if that sick piece of shit weren’t dead already,”—my eyes burn so hot tears build up—“I would kill him myself.”
“He doesn’t know? Rick doesn’t know? He didn’t tell you!”
I shake my head as I thumb away tears.
“Then I just did. I told you. I—” She steps back, bats at her tears, and rubs her shirt sleeve under her nose. “I need to be alone.”
“I think you’ve been alone long enough, Noelle. I think leaving you would fucking kill me.”
As soon as I say that, she recoils like I’ve struck her, and it takes a minute to realize that fuck probably said the same kind of shit and …
“Fuck. Noelle, I’ll leave. I’ll leave, but you gotta tell me who to call and?—”
“No one knows!” She throws her hands in the air and laughs maniacally. “Oops, wrong. Mom knows some of it. My dad knew I was fucked up for months, which is why my therapist knows some. Now you.” She shakes her head. “Of all people, I tellyou? God, what was I thinking?”
“Tell me what you need. Please, Noelle. Tell me what?—”
“What did he say to you?”
